I might as well say it right up front.  Otherwise it will continue to go unspoken.  2XL dogs can kill you.  No, I don’t mean the Cujo kind of thing.  I mean the “I’m not aware of what my 140-pound furball body can do to my human companions” kind of thing.  It’s actually no laughing matter.  An estimated 76,000 serious falls requiring a trip to the ER are caused by pets each year.  And that doesn’t even count the non-ER falls.  Perhaps 2XL dogs should come with a Surgeon General’s warning like cigarettes do.  “Beware: This bubba can hurt you.”

Lewis definitely falls (no pun intended) within this non-malevolent yet risky 2XL category.  For instance, during short trips to the store or some such place, we leave Lewis to hang out in the yard or on the porch.  Upon our return, and after the obligatory, “Oh look, those people came back” greetings, Lewis naturally assumes he should be the first one inside the door to the house, as if he had a key…or opposable thumbs for that matter.

I’m not sure where he comes up with such assumptions, but he exhibits them on quite a regular basis.  I try to tell myself that in his mind, he is executing his duty of protection, making sure no ill-meaning leaves or paper plates lurk in the shadows waiting to attack us.  He is so intent on being the first one in that door, he will knock you down to claim that right, even though he is not the keeper of the keys…yet.  And once the door is open, God forbid that I am able to withdraw the key from the lock before he kicks it open like Seal Team 6.

Then there is the problem of just plain mobility.  Of course, he wants to walk right in step with you, which would be fine if he walked parallel with you.  Instead, he walks one or two steps ahead of you and abruptly turns sharply in front of you and stops.  It reminds me of the maneuver police use when chasing a runaway car.  They nudge the other car’s bumper until it swings perpendicular in front of them.  Bad guy caught.  But hey, I’m not the bad guy.  I’m the one that gives you food and water!  Let me pass, you big galloot!

Those are what I would call the active risks to the owner’s wellbeing.  The other type, surprise, are the passive risks.  Those are the ones that 2XL dogs pose just by their very existence.   This cartoon states the case quite succinctly:

I’ve known a few 2XL dogs in my time but never owned one until Lewis.  Every dog, even the smallest ones, have their own personality and quirks if you will.  The problem is, with a 2XL dog, those quirks become BIG quirks.  I knew an owner who had trouble feeding his huge Great Dane, because they just don’t make dog bowls that big.  The owner’s solution – he dumped a 50-lb bag of dog food in a new, clean trashcan, and just took the lid off when it was time to feed the gargantuan.  Another Great Dane I met had a curious yet unsettling habit of walking over to you and staring at your crotch…enough said about that.

Those quirks aren’t perilous, but make no mistake, 2XL dogs can hurt you.  Either by falling or by having to pay for dog food by the trash can load!  This photograph shows Lewis blocking the only pathway into our den.  Poor furniture placement perhaps, but it wasn’t a problem until 2XL dog parked his big ole butt in the way!

At 140 pounds, Lewis can pack away the food, but the “me first” thing is a killer!

Next week:  We finally learn the details of Lewis’ early life, rescue, and how he got his name!